


Next Year

by VitaLupum



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Angst, Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaLupum/pseuds/VitaLupum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll be coming home next year. Song is Next Year by Foo Fighters, from the album There Is Nothing Left To Lose, 2000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next Year

_I’m in the sky tonight,_

_There I can keep by your side;_

_Watching the wide world riot and hiding out._

_I’ll be coming home next year._

            Brian sits with his back against the wall of the abandoned shack.

            He pulls out his phone, and debates calling anyone. The police. His parents. It’s been five years, and nobody remembers a thing about him, except Alex and Jay. He is alone, in a small shack, with nothing but a mask and a video camera.

            The one person he wants to call probably doesn’t use a phone any more.

            A tear slides down his face as lightning crackles outside, followed by a low, lonely blast of thunder, and he sits there, staring until Sarah’s number is burned into the back of his eyelids.

_Into the sun we climb,_

_Climbing, our wings will burn white;_

_Everyone strapped in tight, we’ll ride it out._

_I’ll be coming home next year._

           Jay lies on the hotel bed, staring at the television. It’s been blaring static for the last ten minutes, not due to supernatural intervention, but due to the storm outside, and the fact that he cannot get up because he is crying so hard that every part of his body burns in pain. His lungs ache, his ribs feel like he’s gone three rounds with Mike Tyson, and yet the almost-chuckling sobs won’t leave his throat, even though his tears dried up long ago. His fingers loosely clutch a picture of him and Alex at a party, and as he shakes in his agony he lets it go to flutter to the floor.

_Into the night we shine,_

_Lighting the way we glide by._

_Catch me if I get too high._

_When I come down,_

_I’ll be coming home next year._

           Alex sits in the tunnel in Rosswood, teeth sunk into his lips. He had a close call with the hooded man a few hours ago – he is sure it is Brian now – and he has only just come to. He is sewing up a wound in his leg caused by close proximity to a barbed wire fence.

            He pushes the needle through his skin again,  _sans_  painkillers, and is nearly sick with the pain. He thought it grew  _easier_ , like getting a tattoo, not that he had one of those. But the gash in his calf is nearly closed, and he cannot give up now.

            An image of his mother taking his temperature when he was six flashes through his mind, and the ensuing tear running down his face falls onto his leg, causing him to swear as the salt water stings for a moment.

_I’m in the sky tonight._

_There I can keep by your side,_

_Watching the whole world wind around and round._

_I’ll be coming home next year._

            Tim sits with his ear pressed to the wall. Jay has cried himself to sleep, he thinks, but the silence terrifies him. Is Jay alright? Is the only person to ever… to ever come to his rescue okay? Is he going to be left alone again?

            He sees his mother driving away from the mental hospital; his body jerks as he almost vomits in fear and horror, and he dashes to the bathroom, waiting until the nausea has passed before he takes two pills, shoulders shaking.

            No tears run down his face. He isn’t sure if he has any more to give.

_I’ll be coming home next year._

_I’ll be coming home next year._

_Everything’s alright up here; when I come down,_

_I’ll be coming home next year_.

            Seth sits in the forest, looking out over the trees from where he is perched. His skull mask is passed from hand to hand as more of a distraction than anything else.

            He remembers nothing.

_Say good-bye._


End file.
